


I think I'm starting to love you

by badboybellamy



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Murder, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboybellamy/pseuds/badboybellamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is a mess, trying to cope with what they've done and act normal.He keeps making mistakes, mistakes that hurt Oliver, and he wants to change. To be better for Oliver but it's hard and he isn't sure how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I think I'm starting to love you

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about continuing the story, if you guys like this I'll add Asher and Bonnie because I like them a lot. Comment and let me know.

_**"Wake up and look me in the eyes again, I need to feel your hand upon my face. Words can be like knives, they can cut you open. And then the silence surrounds you and haunts you. I think I might've inhaled you. I can feel you behind my eyes. You've gotten into my bloodstream. I can feel you flowing in me. Words can be like knives, they can cut you open. And then the silence surrounds you and haunts you."** _

_The girls screams as Sam's body flipped over the stair case. The sickening pound as his head hit the floor. The way Wes hit him while he was choking Rebecca. Rolling his body up. Burning his body- the vile smell of his burning flesh. Hacking the body up and fitting it into tiny bags._

_"I screwed up, Oliver. I screwed up so bad."_

"Connor. Connor, hey, what's wrong?" Oliver rubbed his eyes as he sat up next to Connor, who was currently trembling as he hugged his knees to his chest. His skin pale and sticky with sweat.

"Go back to bed." His voice broke and Oliver moved to sit next to him, gingerly touching his shoulder- Conner flinched slightly at the touch.

"What's wrong?" He asked again, his heart breaking when Connor looked up at him with bloodshot, tear filled eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak but only a choked up sound escaped his lips. He broke down, sobbing hysterical. Oliver slid an arm around Connor and pulled him in close. Connor curled up against him, still hugging himself tightly.  _I don't do drugs. I killed a man. I disposed of his body. I helped burn him. I helped destroy him. I'm suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I think I'm starting to love you. I killed a man. I killed a man. I killed a man._ He's crying harder now, his breathing ragged as Oliver rubs his back. He can't explain himself to anyone, he can't get help, he can't sleep anymore because there was so much goddamn blood.

"It's alright, it's alright. You're okay, Connor." Oliver whispered soothingly, pulling Connor up into his chest to hold him close. Connor quickly latched onto him, clutching him desperately.

"So much blood. There was so much blood and he wouldn't- it wouldn't stop. I just wanted it to stop but it wouldn't- and it still won't. I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I screwed up. I screwed up. I screwed up so bad. So fucking bad." He murmured against Oliver's bare chest, crying against him and speaking between sharp sobbing inhales.

Oliver doesn't know what happened or what Connor is talking about all he knows is that he's terribly shaken up and has been ever since he showed up at his apartment. "Baby, what happened?" Oliver asked quietly, trying not to frighten him anymore than he already was.

After a long time he stopped crying and sat up, scooting back from Oliver and wiping his face dry with his hands. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to I just-"

"It's okay, Connor. It's okay. Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked, because he knew Connor needed to let someone in.

Connor nods slowly, he really wanted to tell Oliver he really did but he was scared. He was so scared to lose him, to go to jail, to hurt him. Connor Walsh was scared and alone. Alone wasn't new to him, he'd been alone practically his entire life but scared...scared was a different story. "Something bad happened, Oliver. I don't think I can tell you what...it's really bad. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do." He sounds desperate and he scares himself even more.

"Tell me, Connor. You can tell me what happened." He promised, trying to console him in any way that he can.

Connor shakes his head, his lip trembling. "He's dead." Connor whispered, biting his fist to silence himself.

"Who's dead?" Oliver asks, barely keeping his composure.

He shakes his head harder, his eyes filled with a haunted gaze. "I..the blood. There was so much blood."

"Who's blood, Connor?" Oliver says softly, trying to ground him again.

"I-I can't. Ollie, please. I can't." Connor was begging now, Oliver had never seen him beg before not like this.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. Not now. Let's just...let's get you back to bed, okay?"

Connor shook his head slowly and after a moment he shakily stood up. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen...but now that it has, now that it's happened I can't drag you down with me." He was close to forming complete sentences now, Oliver noted.

"Is this about the drugs? Did somebody overdose, Connor?" He asked, gently. Trying to understand what he had been freaking out about.

Connor laughed bitterly, he felt like he was going  _insane_ just thinking about all of his damned lies piling up on top of each other. His chest felt tight as Oliver looked up at him with innocent eyes. Oliver was so good and Connor was drowning in his own wilth and now he was dragging the man he loved down with him. It was repulsive, he was repulsive. "Fuck-Oliver. I don't have a goddamn drug problem!" He yelled, feeling trapped like there was a force pushing down on him preventing him from breathing.

He hated himself even more when Oliver flinched. "Then tell me what the fuck is going on with you?" Oliver raised his voice slightly but he didn't yell, didn't want to startle him even more.

"I can't drag you into this shit, Oliver! I can't do that. I'm fucked up, Oliver. I fucked up so bad and I can't drag you down with me. So stop asking!" Connor argued, sick of the lies.

"Drag me into it? Connor, I can't ignore you waking up scared out of your wits in my bed every night! You talk in your sleep, you wake up with these panic attacks, you're  _scared_  Connor. Something bad happened I already know that so just tell me what! Let me help you!" Connor turned his back on Oliver, taking in deep shaky breaths because he couldn't fucking breathe. "Connor," Oliver said gently.

Connor just shook his head, lips pressed tightly together because he didn't feel like crying in front of Oliver. He grabbed a pair of his jeans that were laying on the floor and tugged them on, refusing to look back at Oliver. "You don't have to go." Oliver sounded guilty but Connor felt escaping would be for the best.

"I do, I really do." He said quietly, voice cracking slightly.

"No, Connor, I didn't mean to fight with you it's just-"

"It's just nothing, Oliver." Connor said, tugging his shirt on over his head. "I should go."

"Where?" He paused, looking at the clock on the nightstand. "It's three in the morning, where will you go?"

"I don't know, a bar, Annalise's house, for a drive. I just can't breathe in here!" Connor suddenly realised it was hot and uncomfortable in here. Hot. Hot like the fire that they used to burn Sam. "A bar. I need a drink. Lots of drinks."

"Connor, don't. Just don't get drunk. Don't drive. Don't go."

Connor opened his mouth to reply but he didn't know what to say so he closed it and just stared at Oliver. "I'll call you." He promised, turning on his heel and walking out of the bedroom and the apartment.

* * *

By the time Connor showed up to work he looked like shit, nursing his hangover. Annalise had given him coffee and a bottle of water before asking him to go out and get information for their new case after he finished drinking them both.

So he looked up the man, Daniel Shaw, and found his whereabouts. An old bar off of 5th, perfect. He'd been there before. Upon his arrival he found the good looking pale man, with short dark curls gelled up, and as he stepped closer he noticed the man had warm brown eyes.

Connor strode up to the bar with swagger in each step. "Is this seat taken?" He asked with a low voice and a cocky smile.

"All you-" the man paused once he got a look at how handsome Connor was "-rs." He finished making eyes at him.

"Round of shots. Whiskey, please." Connor said to the bar tender, watching him ready the drinks before sliding the tray over. Connor paid for the drink upfront. He looked back up at Daniel, smirking at him. "And just what are you called?" He asked with a flirty smile, downing the first shot and turning the empty glass upside down.

"Daniel Shaw. What are you called?" He asked back, licking his lips like Connor was a juicy piece of meat.

"Connor, it's a pleasure to meet you." He downed another shot. "I'm looking to get fucked up, care to join me?"

"Do I ever." Daniel exclaimed, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Long day at the office?" He asked, looking genuinely concerned- he wasn't.

"Yeah, yeah it's a long story."

"Bartender, 'nother round!" He called before looking back at Daniel with a small smile. "I've got all night."

* * *

After many, many rounds of shots and loose lip Daniel giving him the information he needed for Annalise they found themselves in the bathroom of the bar, fit snugly in the largest stall. Daniel's pants were already down and he had Connor pinned up against the wall of the stall. He vaguely thought about not wanting this before remembering his place in the world- a selfish, worthless, slut. He let Daniel kiss up his neck but he never kissed back.

Cold hands reaching down and into Connor's pants, touching him where he didn't want to be touched by anyone but Oliver, snapped him back to reality. He roughly pushed Daniel off of him. "I'm sorry...I uh...I have a boyfriend." He stuttered, clumsily unlocking the stall and making his way out of the bathroom and bar. He ran, too drunk to drive, ran until his chest hurt and his lungs burned. Ran until he stood outside the door of apartment 303. He knocked urgently on the door despite the fact that it was probably four in the morning by now.

His breathing was ragged and heavy. Sweat slicked back his hair, his clothes uncomfortably tight. He was hot again, hot like Sam's burned body. He couldn't fucking breathe for the second time today. "Connor, Connor, can you hear me?" Oliver. That's why he was here, he needed to see Oliver.

He pushed forward making Oliver stumble back as he hugged him with a crushingly tight grip. He reeked of whiskey and sweat, but Oliver hugged him back. Slowly moving to close the door. "Hey...what happened?" Oliver asked gently, pulling Connor into the room.

Connor moved away from Oliver, just a few steps, and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said softly, voice breaking softly. "I'm so, so sorry. I never meant-" Connor paused because he realised he was trembling. "I wasn't...nothing happened." He was on the verge of another panic attack again because he was a bad person, because he hurt Oliver, because he helped kill Sam and then helped to cover it up, because he wasn't the one who was positive Oliver was, because he was hurting Oliver all over again, because he was a dirty slut who deserved nothing- who deserved no one.

"Slow down." Oliver said calmly taking Connor's hand and walking him over to the couch to sit him down. "Just breathe, okay?" He said holding Connor's hand tightly. Once Connor's breathing wasn't too laboured he brushed hair out of his face. "Why don't you go take a quick shower? Then we'll talk, okay?" Oliver suggested, wanting to give Connor time to get himself together and cleaned off.

Connor nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah okay." He agreed slowly getting up and making his way to the bathroom.

"I'll bring you some clothes." Oliver called while he shut the door and began to undress. When he stepped in the shower it was cold, when the water began to warm up he felt uncomfortable. Hot reminded him of fire now, the fire that burned Sam's body. It made his skin crawl, he turned the water back to cold. The shower could be an excuse as to why he's shaking and not how absolutely traumatized he was.

"Connor, the clothes are by the door." Oliver said softly, not opening the door to give him space.

A solid five minutes after Oliver told him about the clothes he turned the shower off, standing where the mist should be spraying him. He took shaky breaths before getting out and toweling off. Once he was dry enough he sheepishly got his clothes and went back into the bathroom. He put on the briefs and grey sweatpants and then the thin black v-neck shirt. He put the towel in the laundry hamper before taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself. Feeling slightly sober now he went back into the livingroom where Oliver sat patiently.

"Hey." Oliver said with a slight frown, noticing the pink marks on his neck as Connor sat down a good distance from him.

"I went to this bar to meet a witness for a case." He began, realising Oliver's time was far too precious to waste. "We had drinks, and he told me what I needed to know. I don't know what happened...he just...we were in the bathroom and-" the hurt expression on Oliver's face made Connor hate himself. "I don't know what happened. I never wanted to...to hurt you. Ollie, please, you know how I feel about you." He paused to take in a shaky breath. "Nothing happened. He just started to kiss me and he...and he touched me so I shoved him away and I told him I had a boyfriend. I left after that. I wouldn't hurt you, not ever again."

Once he was done Oliver just looked up at him with a furrowed brow. The silence was suffocating to Connor and he just wanted this to be over. "Okay...but if you care about me why did you let him kiss you?"

"Because I'm a worthless asshole." Connor answered flatly, voice cold.

"Connor-" Oliver began gently.

"No, I'm not trying to guilt trip you. Oliver, that's just who I am and who I've always been. I fuck people over, literally and figuratively. I don't even know why you're with me at this point. You should just break up with me already to get it over with, because god knows I'm already in too deep to call it quits now." Connor said, avoiding Oliver's eyes.

"Why I'm still with  _you_?" Oliver exclaimed like it was the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Connor look at you, why are you even with me? Why would I break up with someone like you?" Oliver asked.

"Exactly! That's all I am to everyone, all I have to offer- my looks. No one wants me because of me not that I'm some prize anyway, I'm an asshole. A lying, cheating, asshole. I'm no good for you, Oliver! Why can't you just see that and leave me! I don't want to hurt you anymore but I can't...I can't be the one to let go, okay?" By the end of his rant his voice was barely above a whisper.

Oliver didn't respond at first, he wasn't sure how. Connor was always so narcissistic and confident, Oliver had gotten glimpses of his more sensitive side but never full on self-loathing. "Connor...I don't want to break up. I don't want to lose you." He watched Connor pout and shook his head slightly. "I love you, I love you for you not because of how handsome you are." He assured, taking Connor's hand in his own. "I think...I think we need to work on how you see yourself and how you let others treat you. You are not property you are a person. You matter."

Connor nodded numbly, he rested his head on Oliver's lap. His legs curling up into his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Ollie." He mumbled, feeling like his world had been shattered into pieces so small he wouldn't be able to piece them together again.

"I know you are." He promised, gently petting Connor's damp hair. They stayed together in silence, and with Oliver's soothing a still drunk Connor fell asleep. "C'mere you." Oliver whispered sweetly, picking up Connor gently and carrying him with minor difficulties to their bedroom. He laid Connor on the bed and tucked him in, kissing his cheek and pushing hair from his forehead. "G'night, darling." He crawled in beside Connor, and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him securely into his chest. Connor snuggled him in his sleep, getting comfortable.


End file.
